The terrible child

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young Nursery teacher struggles with a deeply disruptive child, until she can take no more.

Submitted: June 26, 2016

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Submitted: June 26, 2016



Monday morning was always a tough time for Nursery Manager Carol Voce. Some of her youngsters could be restless after the weekend, however none more so than little Charles Adzur.

Charles was a child that had been assigned to her from a special needs unit which catered specifically for children with behavioural complaint, upon it closing down due to lack of funding. The authorities had taken it upon themselves to declare that Charles should be allowed to attend mainstream care. So Carol had been given little choice as to whether or not Charles attended her nursery. Since Charles had first turned up outside the nursery 3 weeks ago, it had been a constant struggle both physically and mentally. Carol thought back to Charles's first day with perfect clarity. It was not a day she was likely to forget.

Charles had been driven to the nursery that morning by his long suffering adoptive parents, who apparently had no idea what they were letting themselves in for when they adopted Charles. The foster-father, Leonard Shell, looked tired, haggard and worn-out as he stepped out of the red ford fiesta and went to the rear passenger door to open it for his bundle of joy Charles. Carol could already hear the high pitch screaming from within the car and shuddered to think how she would deal with such a child for 6 long hours per day. As Charles was ushered out of the car with some effort from Leonard, Carol got her first real look of him. He was fairly big for his age, with a bizarely shaped head, sullen piggy eyes, very pale skin and dirty hair. His face was screwed up in an unpleasent snarl and he appeared to be pulling a face of extreme anger at Carol. He quickly developed this already hostile look into an unspeakable look of fury, with spit flying from his lips. Carol forced herself into a welcoming smile and tried to prepare herself for the introduction. Mr Shell brought Charles forward in one firm hand as Charles fought and tried to wretch out of his grip. As the two drew near to Carol, she welcomed them with a greeting.

"Morning Charles, my name's Miss Voce, I'll be..."

Carol's kindly introduction was interupted by a loud, almost feral, ear piercing scream from Charles, who then proceeded to spit at and kick Carol in her shins. Charles appeared to be lunging forward with his mouth open as if to bite Carol, luckily she stepped back in time and Charles was restrained by his minder.
"I'm sorry Miss Voce, he can be a little energetic in the mornings" Declared Mr Shell in a dishearteningly defeated way.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure he'll settle down soon enough" Carol lied through a forced smile.
In fact, Carol wondered how she would cope with this child on a full-time basis. She already knew why Charles carer looked so worn-out and tired. It looked as if trying to control this child was like trying to control a wild animal. The moment the three of them stepped into the nursery together, Mr Shell let go of Charles' wrist and hurriedly made his apologies, before literally jogging back to his parked car without looking back once. Carol could only watch in a mixture of amazement and dread at this, whilst Charles dropped to the ground and wildly flailed his limbs around whilst screaming at the top of his lungs. One of his feet struck Carol's shins again causing a stab of pain. She found her unconcious mind just wanting to give him a good kick in the ribs, however knew that was not a decent way to deal with disruptive children. Carol simply left Charles to his fit and went to get a picture book ,in the hope of using it to try and distract him for a while and calm him down. However as soon as she turned back, she saw that Charles had run across the nursery and was busy ripping posters of the wall with his rubbery little fists. As Carol went over to stop him however, he swung a fist at her privates and ran around her toward the window, growling this whole time. Carol found herself chasing after him again. Once at the window, Charles began banging his fists hard against the window as if trying to break through. Again, Charles darted off in another direction as soon as Carol came within reaching distance. So this charade continued. Charles running around, growling and shrieking to himself and Carol trying to keep up, making sure he didn't do too much damage to the place. By the time the other children had arrived, Charles had already assaulted Carol 12 seperate times, although none of them enough to do any damage.
As for the other children, Carol knew from the start that this is where the worst of the trouble would lie. As soon as the first child walked in for the start of a new week, Charles rushed toward her and slapped her hard around the face, causing the rightly shocked and frightened little girl to burst out crying. Unfortunately for Carol, and everyone else, the girl's father was standing right by her side and witnessed the incident. Of course the father took his rage out on Carol and assured her that he was going to address the relevant parties concerning Charles' behaviour. Charles' reaction to the other children was of a similar nature. Although he did not hit anymore that day, he hissed at them from a distance as a cornered animal hisses at a predator. This hostile and bizarre behaviour held throughout the day. Charles would grab sheets of paper from under children's noses during colouring in and screw them up, he would shout and stamp his foot during storytime, he would chew food in a disgusting, deliberately offensive manner during lunch then spit it on the ground. Some of the other children thought this as funny and tried to do the same, until Carol declared loudly that this was not acceptable behaviour. This behaviour from Charles had continued in much the same way for 3 weeks now. Carol had received a flood of complaints from angry parents concerning their children who were afraid to come to nursery because of "the horrible boy" who scared them. Some parents went as far as telling Carol that their children were having regular nightmares about Charles and really not themselves after nursery. Carol knew that Charles was too disruptive to remain in her class, despite what the do-gooding social authorities may tell her. She was already in the process of trying to find alternative daycare for Charles, however this was proving slow moving and often felt like speaking to a brick wall.
This Monday however, Carol had a terrible feeling that events were going to take a turn for the worse. Her fears were solidified and given ground when she saw Charles running, almost hurtling down the road at surprising speed for a 3 year-old. It was a frenzied sprint so vigorous that it looked as if some invisible monster was chasing him. Either that or  of a hungry predator desperate to catch its prey. He ran alone as there as no sign of either of his carers. As Charles grew closer, Carol saw that his face was dirty, his hair a mess, his clothes were torn and appeared to be patterned with a series of blood splatters. He turned onto the nursery path puffing and panting, sweating bursting from his red  tensed-up face. Although Charles was already one hour late at this point, Carol's main concern was that Charles was alone. Carol was about to ask where Charles' daddy was when Charles let out a horrific scream whilst waving his hands around in offensive gestures. Gestures which Carol did not believe any 3 year-old should know about. Carol took a step back at the ferocity of this outburst. Before she could open her mouth to tell Charles to behave himself, he had darted down the path and kicked her hard in the shin before trying to pull at her clothes like a wild beast.
"STOP IT CHARLES!" Carol almost screamed in a mixture of fright and shock.
Charles did stop, only temporarily however as he ran past her and into the nursery. Only 10 seconds later, a chorus of cries could be heard from within the nursery. Carol rushed inside to see that a small boy named Paul lay on the floor crying. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that Charles had something to do with this. For some reason, Carol found herself suggesting that the class have a game of the much loved 'okey-kokey', as a way of focusing Charles if nothing else. Carol, later that day, did not know what possessed her to make such a suggestion.
The ring was formed in the middle of the room with all children holding hands in a fairly loose circle. Charles was compliant enough to take his place and hold hands with the other children, which seemed like a small blessing at the time. However he was still pulling a hideous snarling face at the other children, many of whom where clearly scared of him. The song began well enough, however when the children rushed in towards the middle to sing "oohh-okey-kokey" a child screamed. When the circle dragged out again, Carol could see that another little boy lay on the floor crying and holding his stomach. It seems that Charles had lashed out violently again as the children rushed toward the middle.
Carol decided that enough was enough and Charles had to go, today. She made her way to the phone and hurriedly tried to find the number for Mr Shell. Who by now was probably a shell of a man following the extreme physical and mental drain of trying to look after the awful child they had foolishly taken in. She found the number on her contact list and tried to dial it on the phone keypad. By now though she was looking at the world through a thin sheet of flowing salt water, as tears had finally come to her. She waited 3 rings, 4 rings...6 rings. By the 12th ring she reluctantly put down the handset and dropped her head, crying helplessly whilst her whole body trembled. Behind her, Charles was racing around the nursery, utterly out of control. He was spitting, shrieking in a terrible, high pitch scream which hurt Carol's ears and seemed to make her entire head buzz in a disorientating way. Charles was picking up random items and hurling them across the room with shocking force for such a small child. By now the other children were screaming and cowering, some even hugging eachother. Charles had become a devil before their very eyes. He was bright red in the face, his eyes wide and frantic and his mouth constantly open in a hideous scream. Freakish veins bulged across his forehead and neck. Carol stood up at that point, her face red and puffy with tears. Carol found that both her fists and jaw were clenched in anger. She then broke any remaining composure she had left and unleashed across the room.
"Stop it Charles, you horrible little brat, you VILE MONSTER!!"
The children started howling even louder now upon seeing their usually calm teacher shout out in anger, tears streaming from her eyes. Charles rushed forward like an angry pitbull straight for Carol. Carol was ready however. As Charles came close she threw a nearby tennis ball hard into is face. Even afew hours ago she would have thought this to be unspeakable, however she felt like she had been pushed over an edge and was running off instinct. Charles barely reacted to being struck by the ball and continued charging at her; lips pulled back in snarl, his face screwed up in unspeakable hatred and rage. Carol managed to grab him by the scruff of the neck and began to drag him outside so he was at least away from the other children. She felt like she was winning, although she could not understand how a 3 year-old was able to struggle with so much force. Finally Charles was dragged to the door and out onto the path. Carol let go of Charles and quickly slammed the door before locking it, with him on the other side. Charles was back at the door in a heartbeat, spitting on the window, screaming with rage, banging both fists with shocking force. Carol felt her knees go weak at this stage. She was already shaking and deeply upset, however Charles genuinely appeared to be more monster than human at this stage. His face was barely recognisable under a straining mask of pure hatred and rage. His fists were by this stage shattering the reinforced glass, his roars so loud and ear-piercing that Carol had to cover both of her ears and shut her eyes. She just wanted the rest of the children to be safe from this monster.
Carol had realised that the screaming had stopped, at least from outside of the Nursery door. She opened her eyes to look for herself and saw that Charles was indeed no longer standing there. The coast looked to be clear. Carol was still very aware of the fact that she was responsible for Charles during the day and would be held accountable should anything befall him. With this concern in mind, Carol raced outside onto the street to look for Charles. She could see no sign of him in either direction. She knew that she should go and find him, however she could not leave the rest of her children alone. Carol decided to stay with the children and hope that Charles had maybe run home or was not in any danger. She would be lying to herself if she had said out loud that she hoped Charles would come back to the nursery.
Carol once again tried the phone number for Mr Shell, to update him on what had happened with Charles. The phone rang out again with no response or a voicemail option. Once again, Carol replaced the handset in dismay. Carol realised that either way she would be in trouble for what had happened today, She only hoped that the authorities understood when she explained her side of the story. For now though, she had to look after the rest of her Nursery class, who were all still deeply upset following what had just happened in front of their eyes. Gradually the children calmed and the day proceeded much as it had before Charles they had been afflicted by Charles unwelcome presence. Soon enough it was 3.30pm and parents began arriving for their children. Carol did not mention what had happened with Charles to any of them. She smiled, put on a friendly face and avoided the subject of Charles as much as she could.
By 4.00pm, there was only one parent Carol had not seen. It was Leonard Shell, the adoptive father of Charles Adzur, who Carol had seen no sign of since he ran away earlier that day. Carol found that she had nothing to loose by at least trying his contact number again to try and sort this mess out. Once again however, there was no answer. Carol was then hit by a 'shock thought', which were her words for remembering something she ought to have done already and to do it pretty darn quick. Carol had not contacted the special needs unit who had assigned Charles to her. Carol wasted little time in finding their number amidst her paperwork and dialling it. The phone rang out only 3 times before a professional sonding voice answered;
"Afternoon, Evesham special care unit"
"Hello, this is Carol Voce from Brightside daycare centre. I need to speak with somebody fairly urgently concerning one of the children that you assigned to my centre. The child's name is Charles Adzur"
There was a brief pause as Carol heard a keyboard being tapped
"I'm sorry Carol ,but I cannot find any child by that name on our system. Is the surname spelled A-Z-D-U-R?"
Carol responded positively, however the agent assured her that they had no record of ever having dealt with Charles. The agent even agreed to check Mr Shell's name, however this also brought up no matches. The agent apologised before hanging up. Carol put the phone down, quite bemused by what she had been told. Carol felt that her next urgency would be to contact the Police, something that for some reason she had not done. Carol was about to pick up the handset and dial the local number, when she heard a sharp tap at the Nursery door.
It was Charles, he was holding something long and shiny. His grin widened.

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